Hope is a Waking Dream
by shinningcitystar
Summary: The war is over, her time at Hogwarts is over, and now, Hermione must continue on in university and beyond... MMHG
1. Chapter 1

Hope is a Waking Dream

**A/N: This story is femslash and MM/HG (though it will be somewhat slow leading up to it), if you oppose either, don't make yourself miserable by reading. The story takes place mainly after the trio leaves Hogwarts. The only things you have to know prior to reading the story are: Dumbledore did not die and in the world of this fic, the year that would have been the trio's seventh, Hogwarts was closed, the war ended, and the following year, school resumed with everyone in the grades they should have been in (trio in seventh). There was a double class of first-years.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and anything relating to it, does not belong to me. The title is a quote taken from Aristotle. **

Graduation caps flew in the air. For a brief moment, Hermione wondered what people like Draco Malfoy would say if they knew that Muggles had the very same custom. Hermione shook her head; she was not going to let thoughts of Malfoy ruin her graduation. Unfortunately for her, it was too late. Thinking of Malfoy made her think of the second war, and the final battle.

It was glorified in the newspapers and by people in pubs, the people who had been sitting home when it happened. But as someone who was there, who fought in it, the final battle was anything but something to be glorified. There were so many deaths, on both sides, the Ministry seemed content with making those who died in battle either war heroes or traitors who should have died anyway, but in reality it wasn't that simple. There were people who died who went long before there time. Of course, there were also those who, Hermione at least, won't miss. Bellatrix Lestrange who had been hit with three killing curses, Lucious Malfoy, Severus Snape though no one was sure which side killed him, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Nott, Rufus Scrimgeour, Mrs. Parkinson… And the ones she would: Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Madame Hooch, Percy who proved his long over-due loyalty to his family by stepping in front of a killing curse meant for Ginny, Fred, George, Bill, Fleur who Hermione had just begun to like, Neville a true Gryffindor to the end, and Ron. Ron who was killed so that she and Harry could be saved.

Hermione felt the tears beginning to well up. She excused herself and hurried outside. She stood gazing at the lake thinking about Neville, Fred, George, Bill, and Ron, especially Ron.

"He would want you to enjoy graduation, they all would."

Hermione threw herself into Harry's waiting arms. "I know but I can't help it." Harry kissed her forehead and stood with her, stroking her hair until her body racking sobs quieted.

"You don't always have to be the strong one you know."

"Yes I do," Hermione whispered.

Harry smiled weakly, typical Hermione. "Ready to rejoin the land of festivities?" he asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Besides," Harry said, "it doesn't look so good for the top student not to be celebrating. The Ministry might think that the War actually happened!"

"Oh sod off it!"

The two walked back to the Great Hall, arms around each other, each engaged in a private memorial to the third part of the once trio.

Four and a half hours later, the formal celebration had finally ended. Families returned either to their homes or to a hotel in Hogsmeade. Students returned to their dorms – some sneaking in food and drink. Hermione walked with Harry to the portrait of the Fat Lady, bid him goodnight and told him to come to her rooms if he couldn't sleep. As he crawled through the portrait hole, Hermione sighed. She had foolishly thought that once Voldemort was vanquished, her constant worries about Harry would also disappear. Unfortunately, while the worries over his death had been lifted, they were replaced with worries about his health, the nightmares that plagued him nightly, his grief and guilt over the deaths, especially Ron and Neville's.

Figuring she'd see Harry later, Hermione made her way down to her rooms. That was one of the perks of being Head Girl: her own bedroom, bathroom, and common room. The common room had been very useful during N.E.W.T. studying, having Harry over late into the night, and on those days when Harry, Ginny, and she couldn't face other people.

Hermione was so caught up in her own thoughts, that she was paying no attention to where she was walking and consequently, walked right into the Deputy Headmistress.

"Professor McGonagall! I'm so sorry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine Miss. Granger, no harm done."

"Really, I'm very sorry Professor; I'll pay more attention in the future."

McGonagall chose to ignore the comment. "May I inquire as to why you are not joining your classmates in a continuation of the festivities?"

Hermione shrugged, "I'm not in a very celebratory mood I'm afraid."

"Is it because you are leaving Hogwarts, or because of the War?"

"Both."

McGonagall stared at her for a second, an unreadable expression on her face. "Would you care for a cup of tea Miss. Granger?"

Hermione nodded her assent and followed her favorite teacher into her private quarters.

McGonagall's private rooms were breathtaking. Gryffindor red walls with gold molding. The furniture and floors were a deep cherry wood. There was a huge fireplace in the center of the only wall in the common room that wasn't rounded. Above the fireplace, there was a portrait of a man who looked very much like the room's owner. In front of the fireplace, there were a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table. The remaining wall space was covered in bookshelves.

Hermione gazed at the room in awe. She was drawn to the bookshelves, running her fingers longingly over the spines of ones she desperately wanted to read.

"Sit Miss. Granger," McGonagall said. Pulling herself away from the enticing books, Hermione made her way over to the sofa. McGonagall flicked her want and in a lively fire jumped to life. She napped her fingers and a house-elf appeared, returning with tea a moment later.

The two sat quietly, each sipping her own tea. "If you don't mind Professor," Hermione said, "I'm not sure if I can talk about it."

"You are not required to talk, Miss. Granger. But if you have the inclination to, you may always talk to me." Silence resumed, drifting over the room like a soft blanket, a comforting silence, and suddenly Hermione was ready to talk.

"It's just – everyone is thrilled that Voldemort is gone and they think everything is safe and wonderful, but its not! People are dead or suffering and all anybody bloody cares about is that "he-who-must-not-be-named" is no longer a problem. And Harry – everyone is thrilled because once again he saved them from tyrannical rule, while they sit at home, but they don't' care about _him_. Do they realize that he can't sleep at night because he is terrorized with nightmares of battle? Do they realize or care that before she died, Bellatrix Lestrange hit him with a curse that has been slowly stripping him of his power? Does anyone care that one of my best friends is dead and I feel so utterly alone?"

McGonagall pulled Hermione into her arms. Hermione collapsed gratefully into her mentor's embrace. They sat like that for a while, the Transfiguration teacher quietly comforting her very distraught favourite student.

"Hermione," McGonagall said once the younger woman had calmed slightly, "were you, in love with Ron?"

Hermione pulled away, a look of shock dancing across her features. "In love!?" she said, "with Ron!??" Hermione shook her head, "No, I am most definitely not in love with Ron."

"You are very adamant about that Miss. Granger. I didn't mean to offend you; I just thought perhaps you were, both from your interactions with Mr. Weasley and what you said just now."

"I'm sorry for freaking out Professor. Ronald was my best friend, nothing more; and he was the only one who knew -" here Hermione trailed off looking uncertain.

McGonagall waited quietly for her student to continue. The fire crackled softly as Hermione thought about what she was about to say.

"You see, Professor, Ron was the only one who knew that I – that I…"

"Miss. Granger, if it is too taxing or private, you don't have to share."

"Oh but I do!" Hermione cried, "I have to tell someone, especially now that Ron is – dead," she finished in a whisper.

Hermione took a sip of tea and a deep breath, "I'm gay Professor and Ron was the only one who knew."

There was silence. Hermione glanced, hesitantly, at McGonagall, afraid she'd see disappointment or disgust on her face, instead, Hermione was met with an unreadable expression.

Finally McGonagall spoke, "I have no intention of belittling the situation or your difficulty with expressing it, but it's nothing horrendous." There was a slight pause. "Well in any case, I don't think it is a disgrace or anything of the like." McGonagall took a sip of her tea, "And Miss. Granger – I am very honored that you told me."

It wasn't until Hermione glanced at the clock that she realized just how late it was. She thanked McGonagall for the tea and the talk, bid her goodnight and went back to her own rooms. It felt as though a hippogriff had been lifted from her shoulders.

Luckily Harry wasn't waiting in her rooms when she arrived. She threw on nightclothes, piled her hair on top of her head and opened her book. She was rereading Hogwarts: A History for sentimental reasons. It had been the very first book she had read after finding out she was a witch and it was the one she turned to when she was confused or in need of comfort.

About three chapters into the book, Hermione was startled from her reading when a hand was placed on her arm. She whirled around to face Harry.

"Harry! You scared me!"

"Sorry 'Mione. You just looked like you were enjoying yourself; I didn't want to disturb you. So, what are you reading?"

"Hogwarts: A History."

"Again!? 'Mione, haven't you already memorized that book?"

"I wanted to reread it, is there something wrong with that?"

"Not at all Hermione, not at all."

Harry sat down next to Hermione on the couch. "Can you believe we're leaving tomorrow?"

The tears started to fall. _Three times in one day, Hermione get a grip!_ Harry just gathered her in a hug, "I wish we didn't have to leave."

Hermione suddenly remembered something she had been meaning to ask Harry, "You were talking to a very official looking man during graduation – is anything wrong?"

Harry smiled, "Well you know how I've been wondering what to do after we leave, cause of… well you know. The man I was talking to is the manager of Puddlemere United. He offered me the position of Seeker and I accepted!"

Hermione threw her arms around her second best friend. "I am so happy for you, and I'll be in the top box at all your games!" Even as she was hugging Harry, Hermione felt her heart clench, damn Bellatrix and her penchant for ancient Dark Curses that had no counter action. It was because of that sadistic – woman was too kind a word – that Harry had to suffer through a year of school in which he could do almost no magic, and now, had to rethink his entire career plans.

"Really though Harry, I'm very proud of you."

"Yeah… it's kinda neat, I'm gonna play professional Quidditch and you're going to study at Everard-Maeve. We're adults now."

Hermione laughed. The sound, so rarely heard nowadays, seemed to linger even after all three occupants of the Head Girl's rooms had fallen asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione woke early, her neck stiff from sleeping on the sofa. She cracked her neck, moving it back and forth, trying to shake the soreness from it. She stood, upsetting Crookshanks who had found his way into her lap during the night. He growled low in his throat, which Hermione pointedly ignored.

Going into her bedroom, Hermione pulled on the clothes she had left out of her packing. After taking care of her morning routine, Hermione packed her clothes and toiletries from the past few days and sealed her trunk.

She left a note for Harry and went down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast. The Hall was virtually empty when Hermione arrived. Two Hufflepuffs she didn't know were whispering to each other at their table, and at the Head table, only Professor McGonagall was present. The Professor gave Hermione a smile when she entered. Hermione sat down for her last meal at the Gryffindor table. She looked up at the ceiling, _"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_."_ It was sunny, blue skies and not a cloud in sight. It seemed wrong, in books and Muggle movies whenever the heroine was faced with an upsetting event it was always raining, the sun seemed an insult to the occasion.

As Hermione dug into her breakfast, she reached into her bag for Hogwarts, A History, instead she pulled out a very well read acceptance letter to Everard-Maeve. Hermione smiled as she remembered both the acceptance and the process of getting in.

_Professor McGonagall walked into the Gryffindor Common Room which immediately fell silent. The seventh years were gathered for a meeting about post-Hogwarts life. The table in front of the fireplace was covered in pamphlets from various programs, colleges, and other career options. _

"_After Hogwarts," McGonagall began, "you have a few options. The first is to enter the working world straight away. I must warn you however, without a university degree the job pool you can search in dwindles. The next is go to a university and get a general education degree, this is particularly useful if you are not sure what you want to study, don't really want to continue your studies, or because you need a good transition between Hogwarts and the real world. If this sounds like something you want to pursue, the Wizarding section of Cambridge offers the general education degree. Students who wish to pursue Ministry jobs should attend Cambridge with extra courses at the Ministry's training program. For Auror training or other defensive magic positions," Hermione squeezed Harry's hand, "you must apply to the Ministry's training program, speak to me immediately if you wish to take this path. Students who wish to pursue journalism, either of written or radio kind, should apply to the Wizarding School of Journalism." _

"_Creative name!" Harry laughed. _

"_Mr. Potter." McGonagall sent him a look, she continued, "Those of you who want to get a business or banking job should look into the Wenlock School. For future Healers and Mediwitches, I suggest Bonham University or the Gunhilda Goresmoor School for Magical Healing. Lastly, for those of you interested in teaching, Everard-Maeve or the Adalbert Waffling Teaching Academy. _

_I will remind you that these are only schools in the British Isles, if none of these appeal to you or you wish to go elsewhere in the world, please see me at once. Also, Cambridge can be used to get the basis of an education for anyone of the more specialized universities. I leave all of you to think about this decision and at our individual meetings; we will discuss your plans."_

_The only thing on Hermione's mind for the next week was where she wanted to go to study. She had crossed Auror training off her list already, she had battled enough evil for one lifetime and besides, she couldn't go through with it without Harry and Ron. She didn't particularly want to work at the Ministry, though with Tonks and Mr. Weasley as the new co-Ministers a job there could be quite entertaining. Healer too, was out – her blood tolerance was not high. In the end, after many hours of soul-searching, Hermione decided that she wanted to teach. _

_A week later brought about her meeting with Professor McGonagall. _

"_Ah, Miss. Granger, please sit. Have you given any thought to what you are planning to do?"_

"_Yes, I've decided to apply to Everard-Maeve, Adalbert Waffling, and Cambridge. I am hoping to get into Everard-Maeve."_

"_You wish to teach Miss. Granger?" McGonagall gave a little smile, a rare one that reached her eyes, "That is an excellent profession choice for you. Now, Miss. Granger, one thing you will have to do is pick a concentration. At Everard-Maeve you must be accepted into that concentration's department and in the other two schools, you will need to declare a focus. Do you need time to think?"_

"_No," Hermione said, "I think I know what I'd like my concentration to be, Transfiguration."_

_McGonagall looked up deeply touched. She sorted through the papers on her desk and handed Hermione a stack._

"_These are information packets and applications for all three schools. If you need any help don't hesitate to ask."_

_Hermione thanked her and headed to the door. "Oh and Miss. Granger – I should tell you that the Transfiguration program at Everard-Maeve is the most selective, and best, one in Europe. That said, I have no doubt that you have an extraordinarily good chance at getting in." The smile that appeared on Hermione's face remained plastered on for the rest of the day._

_Weeks of filling out applications, getting teacher recommendations, and taking practical exams were followed by weeks of waiting, then finally, one morning two weeks before Easter holiday, a deluge of owls came swooping into the Great Hall. Two landed in front of Hermione. She ripped into them eagerly. Her heart fell a bit though after she read the letters. _

"_What's wrong 'Mione?" Ginny asked._

"_I got into Cambridge and Adalbert Waffling," Hermione said, "but there was no letter from Everard-Maeve."_

"_Hermione, you're supposed to be the logical one!" Ginny cried. "Don't you think they would send you a letter either way?"_

"_Well, yes…but if I got in wouldn't the letter have come already?" Neither Harry nor Ginny had a reply to that._

_The three sat in silence, Ginny having not applied as she was a year younger and Harry having not applied because he couldn't do the magic required. The owls cleared the hall while Hermione picked at her breakfast. _Come on Granger, you're being ridiculous; you got into two good schools, why can't you just be happy with that?

"'_Mione – look!" Ginny poked her. Hermione looked up, a great tawny owl was coming towards her. The owl landed gracefully at Hermione's hand. She took the scroll, trying to calm her racing heart. _Don't get excited Granger, don't get excited._ She read the letter, "Dear Miss. Granger, we are delighted to inform you…" Hermione stopped, her mouth formed a perfect "O"._

"_I got in!" she screamed, "I got in, I got in!" Ginny and Harry jumped up and hugged her. "I can't believe it," Hermione gasped, "I actually got in!"_

_Later, in her own rooms, Hermione read over the acceptance letter. Pulling out a quill and some parchment, she began filling out the form stating her acceptance, when she suddenly had a horrible thought: _What if they're only accepting me because I'm a war hero – would it be heroine because I'm a girl, oh, never mind, but, what if they just accepted me because I'm best friends with Harry Potter?!_ Hermione hurried to Professor McGonagall's office._

"_Professor McGonagall!" Hermione cried as soon as the door opened. "May I talk to you?"_

_McGonagall ushered her in, "Of course Miss. Granger, what's wrong?"_

_Hermione related her fears and concerns regarding admissions. After she had finished, McGonagall handed her a handkerchief and said, "Miss. Granger, I cannot speak for Cambridge or Adalbert Waffling, but I personally know the people in Everard-Maeve's admissions office and Transfiguration department, they wouldn't even consider you if you weren't an outstanding student. I don't want to inflate your head, but you are the best student Hogwarts has seen in quite sometime. On top of that, you are caring, generous, brave, and a wonderful enthusiastic girl, Everard-Maeve would be foolish not to accept you. Do you feel better?"_

"_Yes, thank you." Hermione said._

_As she was walking to the door, she was stopped by her professor's voice._

"_Hermione I am very proud of you."_

"'Mione!" Harry poked her, "I've been calling your name for five minutes!"

"Sorry, lost in my own little world it seems."

"No problem," Harry replied, already stuffing his face. Even as Hermione began talking to her best friend, McGonagall's voice was still ringing in her head,

"_I'm very proud of you, I'm very proud of you, very proud of you…"_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the positive feedback… It is very encouraging. I want to apologize for the shortness of this chapter. Originally it was supposed to be part of the chapter following it, but then the ending seemed to work as a chapter ending… Anyway-enjoy!**

After breakfast Hermione returned to her rooms to get her things. Her trunks were already gone. "Unfair treatment of house elves," she muttered. She grabbed her bag, book, called Crookshanks and left the rooms that she had called home for a year to join the other seventh years in the front hall.

The teachers lined up in front of the doors. The Houses passed through, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, the Gryffindor, saying goodbye to those who taught them, as well as to those who didn't. Goodbyes between students were saved until the train or London.

Hermione was the last of her graduating class to pass through the line of teachers.

"Goodbye Miss. Granger," Professor Flitwick squeaked, "Good luck at Everard-Maeve." He beckoned for her to bend closer, "You could have been a Ravenclaw you know."

Hermione laughed, "Goodbye Professor." She continued down the line, exchanging pleasantries and best wishes with everyone.

"Hello Hermione." Lupin greeted her.

"Hi Professor."

"You know, I'm no longer your teacher, I think Remus would probably be appropriate." He smiled, "Best of luck, I know you'll go places."

"I suppose I'll see you at Harry's games?"

"Wouldn't miss them for the world!"

Hermione turned to her last two teachers, Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore. She opened her mouth to speak to McGonagall, but found she couldn't say goodbye quite yet. She turned, instead, to the Headmaster.

"Goodbye sir, thank you for everything."

"Not at all Miss. Granger," he said, eyes twinkling, "it is always a pleasure to help people who crave knowledge."

"Thank you Professor, that means a lot."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione turned to face her favourite teacher. Years later, Hermione still wouldn't know what came over her, but she suddenly threw her arms around McGonagall. She began to cry, the salty tears matting her eyelashes and making her eyes red and puffy. Hermione could feel McGonagall's arms go around her, she was being pressed into her mentor. Hermione could feel the heavy material of McGonagall's robes, which were surprisingly soft, could smell the scents of tea, ginger newts, and old books, she could hear the comforting beating of her teacher's heart. She sighed, those fingers were running over her hair. Then the moment was ruined as Hermione realized what she was doing, where she was doing it, and who she was doing it to. She pulled herself out of McGonagall's embrace and wiped her eyes.

"I apologize, Professor. That was uncalled for and showed lack of judgment on my part. Please accept my utmost apology."

"Miss. Granger - "

"I will miss you Professor. Goodbye." Hermione hurried off to catch the train. She felt a dull ache in her heart as she turned from the school which she passed off as being upset over leaving Hogwarts.

If Hermione had looked back, she would have seen McGonagall standing in front of the double doors, watching her, and hand over her heart, and perhaps she would have heard the whispered,

"Goodbye Hermione."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: The response to this had been really wonderful, thanks. I got some comments that if Snape was really dead (as I said in chapter 1) then how could he say goodbye to Hermione in chapter 3. That's called "me not writing with my notes in front of me, which is stupid because that is what the notes are for…" If you go back to chapter three, Snape is no longer in it because he is, really and truly, dead. Enjoy chapter four!**

The air smelled the way it always did, a mix of honeysuckle, bread baking, and garbage. Muggles hadn't invented a way to dull that part of the mixture. However it smelled, it was home and Hermione was ready to be there. She walked up the front path, pausing to looks at the cracks in the sidewalk. She smiled as she found her favorite – a crack that looked like a dog, which as a child, she had dubbed 'Toto.'

"Hermione!"

The young woman in question turned to see her mother running toward her.

"Mummy!" Hermione ran into Alison Granger's waiting arms.

Mother and daughter stood in their embrace, soaking in the other's presence.

"Oh baby I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too mum," Hermione said, her voice slightly muffled by her mother's shoulder.

Alison kissed her daughter's forehead and held her at arms length.

"My, you seem so grown up all of a sudden."

"I'm 17 Mum, and I'm going to university next year."

"My baby," Alison smiled.

They walked into the house, arm-in-arm. The Granger's house was very reminiscent of its inhabitants – neat, orderly, and filled with books.

"Is Dad around?"

"I believe he's in his office."

"Alright, I'm going to say hello, unpack, and then we can do something."

"Sounds like a plan." Alison smiled, "It's good to have you home baby doll."

"It's good to be home," Hermione replied.

That night the Grangers took their daughter out for her annual 'welcome home dinner and ice cream.' The three discussed everything from Hermione's summer plans, her last year at Hogwarts, her study at Everard-Maeve to her parents' plans to take a cruise in the fall.

"Are you seeing Harry at all this summer?" Benjamin asked his daughter.

"He sent me a letter before we left for dinner. At the end of August, he's playing his first game, so I was planning on spending a couple of weeks with him and then watching the game. Besides that I'm not sure."

"Harry is such a sweet boy, and so handsome," Alison said.

Hermione sighed, she knew where this was going. She wished her parents – her mother especially – would stop trying to set her up with "nice young men." Of course, if she told her parents that she wasn't attracted to men they would probably stop, but that meant getting over her fear of telling them. _Come on Hermione, where's that Gryffindor bravery that you reportedly possess?_

"Mum, Dad? May I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course darling – why so serious?" Benjamin replied.

"Harry and I are never going to be together. You see, I'm not attracted to him, well actually I'm not attracted to any guy," Hermione paused, hesitating, "I'm gay."

There was silence. Alison wasn't moving, just staring at the table while her husband was looking everywhere except for at his daughter. Finally, the silence became unbearable,

"Would one of you please say something!" Hermione cried.

Alison reached across the bale and covered Hermione's hand with her own. "Oh baby, I will always love and care for you. It doesn't matter if you date men, women, or hippolifts – "

"Hippogriffs."

"Yes, those – you will always be my Hermione and I just want you to me happy."

Benjamin placed his hand on the pile, "Your mother couldn't have said it better."

"I feel like the three Musketeers!" Hermione said, looking at their hands.

"All for one! – "

"Daddy, don't"

All three began to laugh.

The next two months of summer passed quickly and peacefully. With the exception of expressing his gratitude that Hermione couldn't become pregnant before completing her studies, Benjamin didn't mention her sexuality. Alison, however, spend many hours asking questions and discussing what implications this would have in the Wizarding and Muggle worlds.

"It's strange," Hermione had said, " the magical world is centuries behind the Muggle world in every other aspect, but they are very open and accepting of homosexuals."

Now, Hermione was standing in her room, packing. She was spending two weeks with Harry and then going to Everard-Maeve to start her first term. There was a knock on the door and her mother poked her head in.

"Are you ready Hermione?" Alison asked.

"Yes."

They walked downstairs. Hermione hugged her parents goodbye, promised to write often, and apparated to Harry's.

Hermione looked around shaking her head. How Harry found anything in this place she had no idea.

"Harry!" she called.

"One second 'Mione!" Harry came out of a door pulling a shirt over his head. "I just got back from practice," he explained. "Welcome to my humble abode!" He grinned and opened his arms wide. Hermione smiled back.

They spend the rest of the day catching up. It was nice – like the old times; but there was something nagging at the back of Hermione's mind, she need to tell Harry, after all, everyone else important in her life knew.

Around six, Harry called Dobby for dinner. He had asked the house-elf to work for him – for a salary and some socks. After a delicious and very filling meal, the duo took a walk through Muggle London.

Hermione was lost in her own head. The weight of her secret was baring down heavily. Logically, she knew she should just tell him and get it over with, but she was terrified of his reaction. Most people would have assumed that Harry would have been accepting of her sexuality while Ron would have thrown a fit. Ron would get mad at the little things though, with the important stuff he was very understanding, Harry was the exact opposite. Hermione couldn't stand the thought of losing her one remaining best friend.

"Hermione – you all right, you've been spacing out all evening."

"Sorry Harry, I've just had a lot on my mind. Hey, can we sit for a minute, I have something I need to tell you."

Harry agreed and the two moved over to a bench.

"Harry, I'm gay." Hermione braced herself for the explosion.

Just like when she told her parents, there was a very disconcerting silence. Hermione reached over to touch Harry's arm. He pushed her hand away snarling,

"Don't touch me!"

"Hermione withdrew her hand like it was burnt, even at his angriest, Harry had never spoken to her that way, with that much anger and disgust in his voice.

"I can't deal with this," he said as he stalked off, barely throwing her a backwards glance.

Hermione sat stiffly on the bench for what seemed like an eternity, and then the tears came flooding out.


End file.
